fourteen
by shuues
Summary: 'He's a child, I shouldn't let him do this,' flickered through Shido's thoughts for a moment- 'But, if he insists.' / Shido sends his agent on a mission into Mementos to dispose of Wakaba Isshiki.


"Let me do this for you, sir. I can, I swear."

It was strange, hearing those words from a _child_ \- Shido could muse how odd Akechi was all he wanted later, but he had to stare the boy down, their eyes locking for what felt like an eternity. What did the boy want? He was barely a teenager, not yet in high school, and yet he was throwing himself into a world that could only spiral downwards from there. Those sharp brown eyes reminded Shido so much of _her_ that it caused his stomach to twist in disgust; he didn't want Akechi in his office, yet the boy insisted again and again, _let me show you how useful I can be_.

(His incessant pestering reminded Shido of _her_ , too- _stay with me please, your child needs you, I need you-_ )

"Shido, sir?"

Shido mulled it over in his head, weighing his options. The boy could be useful in his own right, if he'd just _shut up for once_. He was a confidant in this scheme already, one that couldn't be traced back to Shido without quite a bit of digging, a perfect candidate to do his dirty work.

 _He's a child, I shouldn't let him do this_ , flickered through Shido's thoughts for a moment- he still had somewhat of a conscience, deep down. _But, if he insists._

"Very well. Let's see if you can prove your worth, then."

...

Entering the Metaverse by himself was always lonely. This time was no different.

Wakaba Isshiki, it seemed, was not distorted enough to have her desires warp into a palace. She wanted time with her daughter, and she wanted to finish her work, but it wasn't enough to corrupt her, turn her into a monster of a person like Akechi had seen in so many other cases. For all Wakaba Isshiki was- a liability to Shido, a target to Akechi- she was still a gentle, loving parent: one that just happened to be drowning in her work.

(Something about it made Akechi's chest feel tighter; his grip on the gun in his hands tightened as well.)

Mementos sent a chill down his back and kept him awake at night, haunted by the murmur of voices that he couldn't place, monstrous shadows hiding in the dark, waiting to pounce. Of course, he was always ready, gun in hand. The weight of his pistol, suddenly as real as can be in the Metaverse, was something he was not yet used to- the kickback was a jolt of how much _damage_ he could do, not that he needed a reminder of how dangerous the firearm was.

At fourteen, all alone in the depths of Mementos, the gun in his hand was a grim reminder of not only how much power he truly had, but of how little of a childhood he'd gotten to have.

Hunting Wakaba down in the dark was the hardest part- defeating her was child's play in comparison. While she had put up a fight and had managed to get Akechi down on his knees multiple times, fueled by the need to stay alive not only for her, but for her daughter as well, Wakaba Isshiki's shadow could not stand up to Loki, could not stand up to the boy determined to send a bullet through her heart.

When she had collapsed, looking up at Akechi, all she could note about him was how _small_ he was in that moment, despite the fact that he loomed over her with a gun in his hand. It reminded her of Futaba, a little- the way he held the gun like it was a simple toy, mirroring the way Futaba would hold a toy and pretend like it was real, _oh-_ she had to live, Futaba _needed her_ -

"Please, don't do this, my daughter is.."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of her."

He sent a bullet through Wakaba Isshiki's shadow without a second thought, watching her fall to the ground and slowly fade away. Standing there silently for a moment, chest heaving- the sight had brought up a memory- _hearing a gunshot, her body hit the floor, soft brown hair stained with red, the gun falling out of her hands as-_ he stopped moving, slowly sitting down next to where the shadow had fallen. Time didn't pass the same in Mementos, so he wasn't sure how long he'd sat there, but he eventually stood up on shaky legs, his heart still pounding away as he exited the Metaverse.

It was only moments after, as he walked home, that he realized his cheeks were wet with tears.

...

The next day seemed like a blur. He'd been walking to Shido's office, looking down at his phone, when he saw a familiar face only a few feet away. Wakaba was holding her daughter's hand- a tiny little girl, with glasses as big as her face- and waiting for the light to change; they were crossing together, no doubt to go to Leblanc.

They never got there. Akechi watched silently as Wakaba let go of her daughter, faltering in her step, and falling forwards into the street. A screech of tires was drowned out by a scream, high and _terrified_ \- her daughter tried to run into the street to get to where her mother laid still, only held back by the others waiting to cross.

"Mom!"

"It's dangerous, you can't…"

"Mom, please get up-!"

The light changed, and a crowd of pedestrians from all sides began to flock to the girl, some of them checking Wakaba Isshiki's body. Akechi simply walked away without a word.

...

"We can frame it to look like a suicide," Akechi spoke up quietly, surprised at himself- why did he sound so choked up? "Shido, sir, I can help write a convincing note. We can contact someone that can forge handwriting too, so…"

"Then do so, Akechi. I have someone else you need to take care of next, so be quick about it."

"... Yes sir."

...

His foster family gave him a concerned glance when Akechi came home looking tired, but said nothing- he'd been at "cram school", after all, it was expected. They didn't give him a second look as he trudged to his room and began typing on his computer, either. It was such a good thing that he was a dedicated boy, they said, nothing at all like the problem child they say he used to be.

Wakaba Isshiki was, in many respects, like his own mother, Akechi noted. Or, rather- Wakaba Isshiki was what he _wanted_ to remember his mother as- she'd ended her life so early in Akechi's that the memories were hazy at best. There was one _very_ glaring difference, and the note he created was most likely him projecting his own thoughts onto Wakaba. He _knew_ that too well, but he'd be damned if he didn't finish this note.

 _I never wanted you. You ruined my life. I wish you'd never been born. You're the reason I'm dead, now._

 _It's all your fault._

It was a good thing he typed his first draft out, Akechi thought to himself as he saved it and sent it to someone else to be handwritten. He wiped the tears away, shutting his laptop and flopping down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He felt so… _dirty_ , like this. His hands were stained, no matter how hard he washed them- he spent hours in the bathroom, running his hands under the water and _scrubbing_ , staring at himself in the mirror and trying to come to terms with the fact that he was a _murderer_.

Fourteen, and he was a murderer, he repeated in his head- _fourteen, and a murderer_. Fourteen years he'd been alive, waiting for the moment he could finally ruin Shido's life once and for all; he could endure it, he had to. His age didn't matter anymore- all that mattered was getting what he wanted.

 _I'll get my hands as dirty as I need to, if it means bringing him down with me_.

Akechi didn't sleep that night, too haunted by Wakaba Isshiki's face, the sound of a child screaming, and the sound of tires screeching against asphalt.

As time went on, he'd become desensitized to the murders- he stopped crying, stopped the nightmares, stopped _caring_ about each person who dropped dead at his feet. His birthdays had passed- fifteen, without a word, and sixteen, the beginning of headlines- _a gifted boy detective, the second coming of the detective prince_. He started wearing gloves, to keep from marring case-sensitive evidence, and to hide the way his skin marred when he continuously scrubbed away at them.

 _This is for my revenge,_ he told himself, _nothing else matters except for my revenge._

...

Seventeen, and Sae had suggested he go to Leblanc for a cup of coffee, and maybe that was what Akechi needed; it had always helped him unwind and think, after all. It just so happened that the boy he'd happened to meet before worked there- fate worked in strange ways, and he had to accept that.

What he _hadn't_ expected, however, was the girl hiding behind him. She was bigger than when he last saw her, but still undeniably small for someone her age- then again, he was that big when he was her age. Seeing her eyes, hidden behind those huge glasses, something in him _hurt_ \- sleepless nights, thinking about Wakaba Isshiki, the way she died, the screaming in his dreams that never seemed to _stop-_

"Oh, you must be Wakaba Isshiki's…" He sounded cordial enough, but he didn't want to face her, not at all. The girl seemed fine with hiding behind her taller friend, anyway, so he didn't _have_ to.

He simply drank his coffee, talking to the messy haired boy about whatever came up- Futaba seemed upset, even when he tried to ask her a simple question. That was fine, he didn't necessarily come to talk to _her_ , anyway. He was polite, and that was all that counted, up until he finally left Leblanc.

In the safety of his lonely apartment, however, Akechi found the tears dripping down his face again after so long. _It wasn't fair_ , Futaba managed to live and function just fine after her mother's death, and had found friends, a _family_ \- even after Akechi had done everything that would've destroyed _anyone_ else, too. It was like she was _taunting_ him, with her happy life- he wasn't hoping that she would fall into despair, but it was to be expected; to see otherwise felt... Wrong, and strange, and it caused his chest to feel tight again- _I could've been like that too-_

 _Snap out of it_. _There's no time to be upset over things like this,_ Akechi realized as he wiped the tears away again; he'd be happy once he finally destroyed Shido once and for all, he knew it.

 _Just a little bit longer_.

* * *

even i dont know what this was supposed to be? someday ill write something like, Good, and not about goro being sad, but today is not that day ww

i guess i just like thinking abt goro's shitty, shitty life. if there's a part two it'll be about him killing cognitive him and also himself

shido and goro join up "two and a half years" before persona 5 so goro is like, 14 when it starts? right? i dont know how to do math so like. it'd be really embarrassing if i got my math wrong on this


End file.
